A marble carving, white, and cold, her skin is soft like falling snow. Yet a strength lives beneath the softness, that ice-cold heart, formed below her skin. Her face is glass, obsidian stone. Perfection in her features frozen in time, her mouth in awe; that anyone could freeze the heat out of her bones. She sits a statue, staring in a mirror, and her lips are blue from being frozen. A tear of salt slides down her stone cheek, she has no flush; she is white as snow. Her hand is permenantly posed at her neck as if she is nervous from sins supposed. The Queen of niege, she has an old name, none that we can pronounce, it existed before language.
Her eyes a cold dark ice blue and they always reflect her form in the mirror. She’s tired quickly of looking at herself, but she cannot move any part of her body. It’s been that way for millennias. The ice queen posed upon her throne of icicles and hard packed snow. She is regal, magestic, but she has no heart it is frozen solid and that’s what evil does. It twists what is right and turns it ice cold. So now she is stiff as a carved statue. A marblesque figure that cannot lift a finger;she stares out at worlds, at her picture mirror.
She sees all the love people experience and everything wonderful, fantastic, marvellous, and full of feeling. But she cannot understand what she hates. If it was up to her, humanity would have been what she was; a marble statue. But she is stuck in her crystal palace, locked beneath ice, guarded by a mountain that locks her palace in place. No one will find her, she’s had her time. The Snow Queen has been defeated and is solid ice forever. She sits and hates and cares for nothing, reaching for a freedom that will never be. Ice burdened upon her, a beautiful, unloveable figure who once held Narnia.
Thanks to I Smith Words for the prompt ice.